In The Flat Field - Bauhaus
Posted: Mon Oct 17, 2005 12:26 pmBauhais is now doing it's "Near the Atmosphere" tour, just to celebrate goth's key artists and one of my favorite band, I'll review each albums, so here it comes.
Forget everything you know - or think you know - about what is commonly known as "Goth." Chances are, your perceptions of "Goth" are what the latter-day television and print media have incorrectly and ignorantly force-fed you : visions of Marilyn Manson, et al., and their connection to the Trench Coat Mafia, the occult, Satanic worship, and the all-encompassing evil.
Take a deep breath, open your mind, and realize that these items are not to be correctly associated with "Gothic" rock.
Flashback to the late 1970s. To quote the All Music Guide:
"Goth rock grew out of the bleak post-punk rock of the Cure and Joy Division. As the name implies, goth rock had grand, baroque arrangements performed with gloomy synthesizers and processed guitars. Lyrically, goth was equally dark, featuring a lot of cryptic, morbid poetry. "
One of the bands most often credited with spearheading the Goth rock effort of the late 70s and early 80s is Bauhaus. A quartet originally from Northampton, England, this influential band took its main cues from such luminaries as The Velvet Underground and David Bowie, yet went further with the equation, adding mutilated elements of disco and funk. Their aura was harnessed and channeled through its charismatic front-man, Peter Murphy, a well-versed lyrical genius whose vocals commanded immediate attention, as his words frequently did as well. Bauhaus' self-produced first LP, "In The Flat Field," captures the band at perhaps their most raw, a point in time where the members had no real idea how influential and vital their energy would prove to be.
Having been reissued by their initial label, 4AD, "In The Flat Field" contains all of their early singles and EP releases preceding and surrounding the recording and release of the LP (save the infamouse Small Wonder release of "Bela Lugosi's Dead").
The album (I'm referring to the original release, I'll cover the aspects of the reissue towards the end) opens with the ominous guitar play of Daniel Ash, awkward construction of bassist David Jay, unorthodox drum riffs of Kevin Haskins, all leading up to the Peter Murphy's confrontational vocals. This is "Double Dare" - which, for some, was their brutal introduction to Bauhaus - a masochistic invitation of sorts, but more of a challenged to delve deeper into the bountiful chaos contained within.
The rhythm section of Bauhaus, David Jay and Kevin Haskins, actually happens to be fraternally related; this perhaps gives a strange kind of sync to the title track of the album. They propel the cut forward at breakneck speeds, supporting the weight of Ash's free guitar style and Murphy's psychotic lyrical rant, which ranged from mythological references to an eerie dream-world.
"God In An Alcove" provides the listener with a depiction of the band, focused and well-assembled. Here, Daniel Ash throws the curve, switching from ornate guitar structures to glam riffs. Lyrically, Murphy is intelligent, wordy yet eloquent, although ending in dementia - "Now I am silly / Now I am silly / Silly, silly, silly, silly, silly" - unconventionally, perhaps, magnified by Jay's crookedly walking bass riffs. A lesser known track from the album, "Dive," oddly enough sounds like a demented fusion of speed disco and punk. Spackled throughout the cut are various blips and beeps, which carry on into the ambient dirge of "A Spy In The Cab." Ash's guitar carries the youthful, elastic (pre-super baritone) Murphy among the trance of percussion and sparse electronics.
"Small Talk Stinks" has a brain-mangler of a 4/4 swing to it - I'm not quite able to put my finger on it, as all the distorted telephone conversation overdubs, not to mention Daniel Ash's unclassifiable guitar riffs and Murphy's oddly-arranged vocals, cloud my perception patterns. It's worth a listen, but is quickly forgotten by the time its successor, "St. Vitus Dance," comes around at 33 1/3 rpm. Convoluted funk-punk is achieved by Haskins' driving rhythms and Jay's bass, while Ash's axe is faded low and to the left channel. Here, Peter regresses from a spoken-word rant to what could be considered "primal grunting." At least it gets a laugh out of a usually dour crowd.
A well-known Bauhaus track (later sampled by Love & Rockets for "Resurrection Hex"), "Stigmata Martyr" relies on non-conformed syncopation, Jay's stepping bass, as well as Murphy's multi-directional verbal eccentricities (in Latin, no less) to round out the effort. With each squeal and squeak of Daniel Ash's guitar, it's as if the stigmata actually send impulses of pain to the nerve centers.
"Nerves" rounds out the original track-listing as a seven minute builder, requiring at least two minutes to introduce a definable musical pattern due to sporadic metallic rattling and guitar noises. However, all anticipation is well-compensated by the work within. Dark and disturbing, Murphy's voice moves from a refined baritone to a scream with little-to-no warning. As the speed builds, so does the intensity - the piano goes berserk, the instrumentation and collected vocals follow - all until Peter Murphy screams "Stop!"
And at this point, for those lucky enough to have CAD13 on LP, the tonearm pops up and returns to its resting point to the right of the vinyl.
The CD re-release, though, adds half an hour of extra material. All were released around the time of "In The Flat Field" - more precisely, the re-issue contains all tracks recorded for Beggars Banquet subsidiary 4AD. These include other Bauhaus classics ("Dark Entries" and "Terror Couple Kill Colonel"), cover versions (T. Rex's "Telegram Sam" and John Cale's "Rosegarden Funeral of Sores"), an alternate version of "God In An Alcove," as well as "Scopes," "Untitled," and "Crowds." Convenient for all to-be collectors, the old 4AD catalog numbers are provided on the back side.
"In The Flat Field," apart from being a dominant album in an often-confusing (and confused) genre, is a strange view of a warped imagination. Bauhaus doesn't wear fake boobs, say "kill your classmates," "worship Satan," or any of those other misconceived thoughts about goth-rockers. Murphy and co. take the listener through the tunnel of lurid insanity - and back out the other side.
Forget everything you know - or think you know - about what is commonly known as "Goth." Chances are, your perceptions of "Goth" are what the latter-day television and print media have incorrectly and ignorantly force-fed you : visions of Marilyn Manson, et al., and their connection to the Trench Coat Mafia, the occult, Satanic worship, and the all-encompassing evil.
Take a deep breath, open your mind, and realize that these items are not to be correctly associated with "Gothic" rock.
Flashback to the late 1970s. To quote the All Music Guide:
"Goth rock grew out of the bleak post-punk rock of the Cure and Joy Division. As the name implies, goth rock had grand, baroque arrangements performed with gloomy synthesizers and processed guitars. Lyrically, goth was equally dark, featuring a lot of cryptic, morbid poetry. "
One of the bands most often credited with spearheading the Goth rock effort of the late 70s and early 80s is Bauhaus. A quartet originally from Northampton, England, this influential band took its main cues from such luminaries as The Velvet Underground and David Bowie, yet went further with the equation, adding mutilated elements of disco and funk. Their aura was harnessed and channeled through its charismatic front-man, Peter Murphy, a well-versed lyrical genius whose vocals commanded immediate attention, as his words frequently did as well. Bauhaus' self-produced first LP, "In The Flat Field," captures the band at perhaps their most raw, a point in time where the members had no real idea how influential and vital their energy would prove to be.
Having been reissued by their initial label, 4AD, "In The Flat Field" contains all of their early singles and EP releases preceding and surrounding the recording and release of the LP (save the infamouse Small Wonder release of "Bela Lugosi's Dead").
The album (I'm referring to the original release, I'll cover the aspects of the reissue towards the end) opens with the ominous guitar play of Daniel Ash, awkward construction of bassist David Jay, unorthodox drum riffs of Kevin Haskins, all leading up to the Peter Murphy's confrontational vocals. This is "Double Dare" - which, for some, was their brutal introduction to Bauhaus - a masochistic invitation of sorts, but more of a challenged to delve deeper into the bountiful chaos contained within.
The rhythm section of Bauhaus, David Jay and Kevin Haskins, actually happens to be fraternally related; this perhaps gives a strange kind of sync to the title track of the album. They propel the cut forward at breakneck speeds, supporting the weight of Ash's free guitar style and Murphy's psychotic lyrical rant, which ranged from mythological references to an eerie dream-world.
"God In An Alcove" provides the listener with a depiction of the band, focused and well-assembled. Here, Daniel Ash throws the curve, switching from ornate guitar structures to glam riffs. Lyrically, Murphy is intelligent, wordy yet eloquent, although ending in dementia - "Now I am silly / Now I am silly / Silly, silly, silly, silly, silly" - unconventionally, perhaps, magnified by Jay's crookedly walking bass riffs. A lesser known track from the album, "Dive," oddly enough sounds like a demented fusion of speed disco and punk. Spackled throughout the cut are various blips and beeps, which carry on into the ambient dirge of "A Spy In The Cab." Ash's guitar carries the youthful, elastic (pre-super baritone) Murphy among the trance of percussion and sparse electronics.
"Small Talk Stinks" has a brain-mangler of a 4/4 swing to it - I'm not quite able to put my finger on it, as all the distorted telephone conversation overdubs, not to mention Daniel Ash's unclassifiable guitar riffs and Murphy's oddly-arranged vocals, cloud my perception patterns. It's worth a listen, but is quickly forgotten by the time its successor, "St. Vitus Dance," comes around at 33 1/3 rpm. Convoluted funk-punk is achieved by Haskins' driving rhythms and Jay's bass, while Ash's axe is faded low and to the left channel. Here, Peter regresses from a spoken-word rant to what could be considered "primal grunting." At least it gets a laugh out of a usually dour crowd.
A well-known Bauhaus track (later sampled by Love & Rockets for "Resurrection Hex"), "Stigmata Martyr" relies on non-conformed syncopation, Jay's stepping bass, as well as Murphy's multi-directional verbal eccentricities (in Latin, no less) to round out the effort. With each squeal and squeak of Daniel Ash's guitar, it's as if the stigmata actually send impulses of pain to the nerve centers.
"Nerves" rounds out the original track-listing as a seven minute builder, requiring at least two minutes to introduce a definable musical pattern due to sporadic metallic rattling and guitar noises. However, all anticipation is well-compensated by the work within. Dark and disturbing, Murphy's voice moves from a refined baritone to a scream with little-to-no warning. As the speed builds, so does the intensity - the piano goes berserk, the instrumentation and collected vocals follow - all until Peter Murphy screams "Stop!"
And at this point, for those lucky enough to have CAD13 on LP, the tonearm pops up and returns to its resting point to the right of the vinyl.
The CD re-release, though, adds half an hour of extra material. All were released around the time of "In The Flat Field" - more precisely, the re-issue contains all tracks recorded for Beggars Banquet subsidiary 4AD. These include other Bauhaus classics ("Dark Entries" and "Terror Couple Kill Colonel"), cover versions (T. Rex's "Telegram Sam" and John Cale's "Rosegarden Funeral of Sores"), an alternate version of "God In An Alcove," as well as "Scopes," "Untitled," and "Crowds." Convenient for all to-be collectors, the old 4AD catalog numbers are provided on the back side.
"In The Flat Field," apart from being a dominant album in an often-confusing (and confused) genre, is a strange view of a warped imagination. Bauhaus doesn't wear fake boobs, say "kill your classmates," "worship Satan," or any of those other misconceived thoughts about goth-rockers. Murphy and co. take the listener through the tunnel of lurid insanity - and back out the other side.